


when the fear sets in

by Zykaben



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Check notes for more detailed content warnings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jon has a PTSD episode and his service dog helps him, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Service Dogs, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zykaben/pseuds/Zykaben
Summary: Most of Jon's days are mundane, especially considering where he works: wake up, feed his service dog Eliza, go to work with her, go home, take Eliza for a walk, eat dinner, and go to bed. Simple and easy.Today is not one of those days. Today is one of the days where Jon needs Eliza to help him.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	when the fear sets in

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for thedrunkhyena, who wanted a fic where Jon has a psychiatric service dog who helps him through a PTSD episode.
> 
> Big thank you to Sandbar and northern_spies for beta reading!
> 
> There are more detailed content warnings in the end notes of this fic, so

Jon cannot move. His body is locked in place, bound by invisible threads. His heart thunders in his chest, the roar of it doing nothing to drown out the skittering of long, spindly limbs. The coppery stench of blood cloys his nose, the glint of venom-drenched fangs and cold, beady eyes burning into him like a brand.

Jon cannot breathe. He is trying to breathe but his lungs do not have the room to expand in his tight chest and he cannot  _ breathe. _

He cries, a strangled sound somehow escaping him despite his constraints, hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He can’t wipe them away, knows that it wouldn’t do him any good even if he could. Mr. Spider does not care about tears. He will not stop because of them.

Jon is next, he is  _ next, _ he is—

Jon flinches violently when something presses up against him. It is cold and wet and Jon feels a whimper bubble up from his throat. It pulls back before pressing against him again, this time soft and warm and solid. Jon freezes for a moment and then suddenly he can  _ breathe, _ just a bit, and he finds his arms have been freed just enough that he can wrap them around the thing that is here. It is his only anchor in the storm that surges around him.

His anchor shifts closer. Jon clings that much harder. Feels just a bit safer.

Ever so slowly, the pressure in his chest abates until he is no longer gasping for air and his limbs are no longer held still at the whim of something else. When Jon opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) he cannot see fangs or blood or anything resembling a spider. Just golden fur and warm brown eyes.

Eliza.

Another sob escapes Jon, this one profoundly more relieved than the last. Eliza, dutiful service dog that she is, presses her snout against Jon’s face and licks at his cheek. Jon isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or sob again, so he just buries his face in her fur and holds onto her as tightly as he can.

_ It’s going to be okay, _ Jon tells himself, trying his best to convince his body of this truth.  _ I’m not about to be eaten. Eliza is here. Mr. Spider is not. I am going to be okay. _

Holding on to that thought, Jon inhales. It’s a shaky thing, but he manages it. Counts to six, holds it, and counts to seven as he lets it out. Does it again. Focuses on the feeling of Eliza’s fur between his fingers, how warm she is compared to the floor he’s sitting on.

As Jon’s heart calms down, he begins to recall where he is, what he’d been doing. He is at the Magnus Institute. He and Tim had been working on a project that their supervisor had assigned to them. Tim had mentioned that one of the storage rooms had the documents that they were meant to be looking for.

And then there had been a spider. And then it had jumped onto Jon.

And then Jon had gone and had an episode at work in front of his coworker.

He closes his eyes at the feelings that well up inside of him. They sit heavy and viscous in his throat, the familiar mix of shame and vulnerability that always accompanies the realization that he’s had an episode in front of another person. He swallows it down quickly enough, reminds himself that he is not weak, that he is not lesser for this.

Bracing himself, Jon opens his eyes.

Tim is still here, in this small room filled with filing cabinets and documents. He stands at the edge of the room, watching Jon intently with concern writ large across his face. When Jon meets his gaze, Tim gives a tentative smile.

“Hey,” Tim says.

Jon just nods at him. Waits for Tim to ask if he’s okay. Dreads it.

Tim doesn’t do that, though. “Um, so, spider’s gone, just so you know. Got it off of you and squished it.” Tim pauses. “Do you… need anything? An ambulance or something? Or some water?”

Jon shakes his head. “No.” His voice cracks. He clears his throat. “No, I don’t need anything. Thank you.”

Tim nods. “Do you want a hand getting up?”

“… In a moment?”

“Take your time,” Tim says with a small smile.

Once Jon feels like his legs won’t immediately give way from under him, he holds out a hand. Tim takes it and carefully hauls him to his feet. Eliza presses up against Jon’s left leg once he’s standing, a reassuring presence. He reaches down to scratch at her ear.

“So…” Tim says, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Jon answers honestly. “But better now. Thank you, really.”

“Nothing to thank me for. Eliza’s the one that helped you through it.”

Jon looks down at her. She stares back up at him. He resists the urge to kiss the top of her head, if only because Tim is there. “Still. Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

They both stand there for a bit. Jon cannot tell if the silence that hangs between them is awkward or comfortable; it simply is.

He takes in a deep breath, counting again in his head before letting it out. “Alright. I’m ready. Let’s get back to work.”

Tim opens his mouth before closing it, taking a moment to worry his bottom lip between his teeth before saying, “Okay, so, don’t take this the wrong way, but… are you sure that’s a good idea? If that’s what you need then I obviously won’t stop you. You just seem… kinda shaken.”

Jon huffs out a mirthless chuckle. “I… Well. I  _ am _ a bit shaken, yes. But I’m hardly going to leave you to shoulder all of the work because of this.”

Tim is already waving him off. “Nope, don’t even worry about it. There’s some stuff I’ve been needing to catch up on, so you getting some rest would actually be super helpful. Besides, I think Eliza might put me on her shit list if I force you to work after that.”

“She doesn’t have a shit list, Tim,” Jon smiles.

“Then I  _ really _ don’t want to be the reason she starts one up.”

That gets a laugh out of Jon. It’s small, but it’s real. Tim grins at him.

“Alright,” Jon agrees. “For your sake, then.” He tries not to wince at how flat the words come out, sounding monotone instead of teasing.

Tim seems to get it despite the tone, though, both of his hands coming up to dramatically press against his heart. “Aw, I knew you cared about me!” More seriously, he continued, “Do you need any help getting home? I don’t mind taking an early lunch to make sure you get back alright.”

Something warm and fuzzy uncurls in Jon’s chest. “No, I should be fine. Thank you, though. Really.”

Tim gives an easy shrug. “What are friends for? Now come on, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can get some rest.”

Tim holds the door open for them. With one last pet to Eliza’s head, Jon steps out.

* * *

When Jon gets home, he is incredibly grateful that Tim steered him away from work. His feet drag heavy against the ground, his shoulders weighed down with exhaustion. By the time he stumbles into his flat and unclips Eliza’s leash, he simply wants to collapse face-first into his bed.

Instead of doing that, he forces himself to heat up leftovers from the fridge and eat a light lunch. He tries not to make a habit of skipping meals these days, especially after an episode as intense as the one he had earlier. He doesn’t know for certain if the meals actually help, but they make him feel better. Like he’s doing something good for himself after his body decides to mutiny.

When he stumbles to his bedroom, Eliza is still pressed right against his side. She hops up on the bed as Jon quickly changes out of his work clothes and into something more comfortable: an oversized t-shirt and baggy shorts. When he finally flops onto the bed and burrows under the covers, Eliza shuffles over until she is curled up at his feet.

“Good girl,” Jon whispers. Affection threatens to overwhelm him when her tail gives a few wags. Jon reaches to pet her a few times before lying back.

When he goes to sleep, there are no nightmares. Just warmth and the unshakeable feeling of safety.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Content Warnings:**   
> \- Jon has a flashback/PTSD episode about Mr. Spider that his service dog helps him out of.   
> \- Tim is there to witness Jon’s episode and while he is a bit uncertain how to handle it, he is supportive and caring of Jon.   
> \- There are some moments of Jon feeling ashamed of his reaction but he is aware of them and those feelings don’t spiral.
> 
> Please note that I am not an expert in terms of service dogs and PTSD. I am open to feedback regarding my portrayal of these themes so that they are handled as respectfully as possible.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Please be sure to kudo, bookmark, and leave a comment if you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> You can find me [here on tumblr.](https://zykaben.tumblr.com) Feel free to hit me up there!


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